


Curious Hands

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, Fever, Fluff, Insecurity, Kissing, Low Emotional Intelligence, M/M, Making Out, Mild Angst, Objectifying Harrison Ford, One Sided I Love You, Purple Prose, Requited Affection, Sexualizing Small Pox, Tooth Rotting Fluff, light biting, stupid boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jason and Dick spend a lazy afternoon together.





	Curious Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I... don’t write fluff for these two. It’s mostly pining, unrequited affection, and general angst. So have more angst, but angst wrapped up in marzipan and drizzled with royal icing.
> 
> Colors by Halsey is apt for this fic (really, really apt), but I’d also posit Bitter Love by Pia Mitter or Hang Forever by Ivy Levan.

Dick woke gently, the remnants of a pleasant dream already forgotten. From the window, late dawn draped Dick’s bedroom in a pastel peach that promised Dick a few more hours of sleep. Dick stretched and then burrowed further into the rough linen sheets, eyes half lidded. The room was cold, much colder than it was when Dick fell asleep, but the crisp chill and the humming of the ancient A/C lulled Dick into dozing.

Stirring on the other side of the mattress coaxed Dick into rolling over. Warmth blossomed and pooled in Dick’s chest at the sight of Jason, spread out on his back and very much asleep. Jason’s arm was tossed across his stomach, and his head lay nestled between two pillows that had been kneaded into tight, misshapen oblongs from use. His jaw was slack, and his lips were just parted. His bottom lip was split; it hadn’t been when Dick last saw him. And despite the laboring A/C, Jason’s skin was flush and emanating a heat that meant fever, which wasn’t surprising. Jason always caught a fever after prolonged sleep deprivation, and he’d been out late the past several nights managing a post-gang war power vacuum.

It was a treat to catch Jason asleep, made all the more tender by Jason’s unlined, youthful expression and pliant, loose frame. Usually, Jason slept with a clenched jaw and curled body, flinching at his edges by way of twitching fingers and contained shudders. Usually, Dick enveloped Jason, cradling him close as if he could mop up Jason’s phantoms with proximity alone (he couldn’t, but he kept trying.)

And while Dick enjoyed playing the part of Big Spoon, like this he could...

Dick scooted closer, watching Jason for wakefulness. He grew distracted by the bow curve of Jason’s lips and then by his fanned eyelashes. The lines between his brows, seemingly permanent fixtures while he was awake, were so smooth that he actually looked his tender age of 22. There was a small welt by the edge of his eye, from pulling his mask away too fast and too stickily. Dick never got to just look at Jason like this; if he was caught staring at Jason’s sharp nose or angular jawline, Jason snapped at him and hid. He reacted even worse when Dick tried to count the shades of green and blue in Jason’s irises, going so far as to physically shove Dick away or leaving the room. But like this...

No. Focus. 

Dick shook off his urge to trace Jason’s cheekbone and returned to the task at hand. Jason remained still but for his even breathing, and so Dick maneuvered himself closer by nudging Jason’s outstretched arm just a little higher, high enough for Dick to press against Jason’s side. With the mindfulness of a surgeon, Dick lowered his head to rest on Jason’s chest, right on the pillow of his pectoral. He tucked one arm beneath himself, but chanced wrapping his other around Jason’s waist.

He froze when his arm bumped against Jason’s arm on Jason’s torso. Beneath Dick, Jason shifted and rippled as he adjusted. But, after moving the arm nearest Dick to bend above his head and shifting the other to lay higher on his chest, Jason once again melted into the mattress. A thrill weaved up Dick’s spine at the thought that maybe, perhaps, Jason slept so soundly because felt safe here, in Dick’s sheets, in Dick’s apartment, in Dick’s presence.

For the first time since attempting the cuddle, Dick breathed. And then he closed his eyes again, relaxing into Jason.

Jason’s naked skin was hot despite the fact that he and Dick were wearing only briefs, hot enough that Dick was going to insist he work remotely that night. But the steady thump of Jason’s heart (his healthy, beating, alive heart) was enough to soothe Dick back into the downy embrace of sleep.

The next time Dick’s eyes fluttered open, it was to fingers threading into his hair and massaging his scalp. Afternoon sun cast a soft glow into the room, and a bird sang incessantly just outside the window.

“You certainly made yourself comfortable,” Jason rumbled, voice roughened with sleep. There wasn’t any malice in the observation, but neither was there any amusement. Dick glanced up, but Jason’s head was tilted back so that Dick only caught the underside of his chin.

Dick stretched, as much as he could while plastered to Jason’s skin. He settled back down and nuzzled Jason’s skin with his nose. Jason continued to pet and stroke Dick’s head.

“The air was blasting,” Dick yawned. “I had to outsource my body heat to survive the winter.”

“It’s summer, and it’s humid,” Jason muttered. “I was hot.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Dick murmured, wiggling up Jason’s body to press his face into Jason’s neck. “You’re feverish. It’s probably small pox, we’ll have to pray over you,” he added, voice muffled.

Jason snorted and Dick smiled.

“If it’s small pox, you shouldn’t be crawling on me like this,” Jason warned. “It spreads via skin-to-skin contact. You’re going to get a rash right over your pretty face, and then what’ll I do with you?”

Dick ignored the flare of irritation that Jason’s remark sparked. Jason claimed he only tolerated Dick for his looks often, Dick knew it for the coping mechanism that it was. Jason guarded his attachments with the transparency of tulle. And then he had the audacity to pretend that his shit wasn’t laid near bare.

“The rash doesn’t start on skin,” Dick retorted, sitting up just enough to kiss the underside of Jason’s jaw. He threw a leg over Jason’s hip, straddling him for leverage and dipping down to mouth at Jason’s throat. He traced the column of Jason’s throat with gentle, sweet brushes of his lips, all the while caressing Jason’s side.

All the while, Jason squirmed. Jason always squirmed when Dick was attentive.

Dick lifted his head to smirk at Jason’s scowl. He brushed the back of his hand across Jason’s cheek and pecked Jason’s bottom lip with a coy flick of his tongue, tasting the copper of his cut. 

“The early rash manifests as little red bumps,” Dick explained huskily, kissing the corner of Jason’s lips, “on your tongue,” Dick clarified before cupping Jason’s face and pressing his lips fully against Jason’s.

Jason let out a disgruntled grunt, but when Dick nibbled his bottom lip, mindful of the split, Jason placed a hand on Dick’s hips and returned the kiss in earnest. Dick slid his hand from Jason’s cheek to tangle in his hair, tugging ever so slightly as he pulled away. Jason’s lips parted and he looked up at Dick with half lidded eyes.

“And on your mouth,” Dick chirped, kissing Jason’s retort from his lips. This time, he flicked his tongue along the roof of Jason’s mouth, and Jason groaned and tightened his grip on Dick’s hip.

“You’re gross and I hate you,” Jason sighed, chasing Dick’s lips as Dick pulled away. Dick smiled a lazy, half cocked smile that he mastered after an Indiana Jones marathon with Donna.

Jason didn’t know that Dick practiced and adopted Harrison Ford’s schtick; Dick was fairly certain that Jason never connected his affection for Han Solo with Dick’s bedroom smile. But he certainly responded to it, unerringly.

With a choked noise, Jason surged forward and flipped their positions so that Dick sprawled beneath him. Then, Jason gripped Dick’s thigh until Dick obligingly wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist. Dick had shaved recently, and he soaked in Jason’s appreciation as Jason stroked and lingered on Dick’s smooth skin. 

“Fuck, Goldie,” Jason whimpered, leaning down and nuzzling the crook of Dick’s neck before nipping at Dick’s skin. Dick tilted his head back and sighed.

“God, I love you,” Dick cooed when Jason traveled up to kiss his temple. With one hand, he cupped the back of Jason’s neck, and with the other he danced his fingers along Jason’s firm bicep, gripping Jason’s arm and squeezing at particularly pleasing drags of Jason’s teeth.

“God, you’re dumb,” Jason shot back. Already flushed from the fever, there wasn’t any reason for Jason to hide what would have been a blush, but habit drove him to do so anyway by catching Dick’s mouth in another consuming kiss.

“Fuck, Goldie,” Jason whined again, like a broken record, when they separated. He wiggled his hips in an attempt to subtly adjust himself, but the friction just sent Dick’s head back.

“Is that a gun in your briefs or are you just happy to see me?” Dick cooed as Jason kissed up the column of his arched throat.

“It’s a gun,” Jason mumbled into Dick’s skin. “I’m going to rob you. This has all been an elaborate ruse to rob you.”

Dick snorted, lightly scratching down Jason’s back because he knew what Jason liked. Sure enough, Jason arched into it.

“Last I checked, you’re the one trying to smuggle me onto your payroll,” Dick said. Several of their most recent arguments were over Dick’s refusal to accept money from Jason, whose criminal enterprises could comfortably fund Dick the Vigilante and Dick the Cop as easily as any one of Jason’s other employees. Except, Dick wasn’t one of Jason’s employees, and he wasn’t about to sacrifice his independence for some spare cash.

“If you want to be a police officer and a social worker and a non-profit vigilante, then you’ll have to suffer under a little patronage; it’s the price of altruism. Pride cometh before the fall, Dick,” Jason chided. His hand skirted down Dick’s side to cup his hip. “I wish you’d learn to take a gift.”

“I wish you’d learn to take a compliment,” Dick retorted.

Jason grunted, ducking his head, lowering himself to curl up on top of Dick, and tucking his head underneath Dick’s chin. He held himself up just enough so as to not squish Dick’s smaller frame, but Dick enjoyed his weight, and happily buried his face in Jason’s hair. He bent his knees to bracket Jason’s waist and stroked Jason’s shoulders.

“I love you, Little Wing,” Dick pushed again, scratched the nape of Jason’s neck.

“Yeah,” Jason mumbled, voice muffled. “You’re alright.”

Dick could live with that.


End file.
